


Gentleness clears the soul

by bev_crusher1971



Series: Never let me down [3]
Category: teen wolf - Fandom
Genre: Breathplay, Dom/sub, Episode Related, M/M, Showers, Sleepy Cuddles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-13
Updated: 2016-04-13
Packaged: 2018-06-02 02:06:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6546049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bev_crusher1971/pseuds/bev_crusher1971
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jordan Parrish counted the corpses ... 23. It was as if his nightmares were coming through. John Stilinski knew he had to do something before his Deputy lost himself inside his head again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gentleness clears the soul

**Author's Note:**

> This story takes place after episode 5x19 "The Beast of Beacon Hills". Seeing Jordan standing there so forlorny but reacting so beautifully to the Sheriff's order fed my bunny. :-) 
> 
> Beta made by the amazing fast [counselor69](https://archiveofourown.org/users/counselor69)  
> .

It was his worst nightmare come true. His heart was beating wildly and he felt sick as he watched the medical staff roll in one corpse after the other. He didn't want to count and yet he couldn't stop. His brain just couldn't stop counting … eight, nine, more, always more. 

He didn't see Sheriff John Stilinski walk up to him, still leaning heavily on his cane. Didn't notice him until he talked to him. 

"Parrish,“ he said quietly, and Jordan knew that he should acknowledge his Sheriff's presence in any way but he couldn't. Ten. Eleven.

"Parrish, look at me!“ An order this time and the tone of voice made the sub in him obey on instinct without taking a detour through his brain. He turned his head and stared at the Sheriff, his dom. His Master. His only constant in this mad, crazy, out-of-control-spinning world. "I know what you're thinking,“ the Sheriff said softly, "the dream's coming true. It's *not*!“

He sounded so convinced and Jordan desperately wanted to believe him. But he couldn't. Not when there were … 

"Sheriff,“ he choked out, "there's 23 bodies.“ He turned back to the corpses and repeated dazedly, "23 of them.“

"Which means,“ the Sheriff continued, “you gotta go back to the Station and you go through every missing person's report for the past two weeks. That's what we do!” He stressed the last four words, his gaze never leaving Jordan who wanted nothing more right now than drop at his dom's feet, feel his hand on his head and be told what a good boy he was. But he wasn't, was he? He could still see the bodies before his inner eye, broken, bloody, piled up like trash. 

“You got it, Parrish?” The Sheriff sounded harder now, not by much but Jordan knew his dom's no-nonsense voice, so he just nodded and walked around him to leave the hospital. 

He had work to do. The break-down had to wait until later. 

~*~

John Stilinski took a deep breath. Christ, what had he gotten him self into? This whole dom/sub thing was still so incredibly new between them and they were still testing the waters. So to speak. Seeing his boy so broken about the corpses had made him want to take him in his arms and protect him from all the horrors in the world. His eyes. John swallowed through the lump in his throat. His look had been so devastated, so deeply wounded. But John had to put him back on track. He couldn't afford being nice right now and right now he needed all hands on deck. He needed his staff to be at its best. And this meant an order to his Deputy and not a cuddle to his lover. The cuddle would have to wait until later. 

The ping of the elevator tore him out of his thoughts and he turned around to see his kid walking up to him. Followed closely by his now-again trusty sidekick Scott and his girlfriend Kira. He could see the shock in their faces and just like before with Jordan, he wanted to protect the kids from all of this. But a look in the eyes of his son told him that this wasn't the worst he had ever seen. And wasn't that a dark thought?

“Who found them?” Stiles asked. 

John leaned on his cane and turned a little. “Argent,” he finally replied, “he said the doctors were down there. He also said you guys might know what this thing is.” He couldn't help the way his voice sounded slightly questioning at the end.

“We've got a theory,” Scott answered and Stiles interrupted him, “A slightly terrifying theory.”

“Well, the ME said the victims were killed somewhere else and then dumped in those tunnels.”

John didn't want to know how Chris and his batshit-crazy father even knew where to look and why they had been down there in the first place. And while the kids started discussing different theories, his thoughts turned back to Jordan. He needed to see him. Needed to see that he was alright. Despite his history at the bomb-squad, despite all his bravado, he wasn't so hard like he wanted everyone else to believe. The word protect made its way into his brain and he asked, “Protecting … what?” And though he wasn't quite sure he wanted to know the answer, he knew he had to ask. Had to know what he and his Department were dealing with. 

“A werewolf,” Scott said earnestly and Kira continued, “It's called The Beast.”

John didn't know what to say. A werewolf? He had handled werewolves in the past and he knew of not a single one who would just kill and dump the bodies. Stiles seemed to feel his unease. “We know, horrifying.”

“We better figure out what we gonna call Parrish,” he said out of the blue and when the kids stared at him, he clarified, “because it looks like his dream is coming true.” 

~*~

Andrew Morgan, 27.  
Jennifer Bright, 18.  
Susan Halden, 21.

With every name and with every face Jordan felt worse. Of course he knew that rationally he wasn't responsible for all the killings. And yet. 

And yet he had dreamed about it. About them. Had seen them in his darkest hour between sleeping and awakening. Had seen himself carrying the bodies to that strange old tree. And had woken sobbing, shuddering, until his dom had pulled him in his arms, had stroked him gently, calmed him down. 

Michael Andrews, 16.  
Brenda Johnson, 19. 

Faces to the names. Smiling faces he had to compare to the pictures of the corpses. Five more names. Five more faces. Five more devastated parents. More sisters and brothers who were mourning now. 

He felt sick and as he looked down at his hands, he saw that they were shaking. He balled them to fists and unclenched them again but to no avail. If possible, the shaking seemed to get worse. 

Suddenly a strong hand landed in his nape and involuntarily, he took a deep breath. “Sheriff,” he murmured. 

“How far are you, son?” the older man behind him grumbled. 

“Almost done,” Jordan replied, “five more and we have them all identified.” He hit a button and reached for the next file. “Four more.”

“Good job, son,” the Sheriff said softly then a bit louder, “go home when you're done here, Deputy. It's been a long day for all of us.” A little quieter he added, “Come to my house. I'll be waiting there for you. One hour, and don't be late.”

Jordan nodded and tried to concentrate on his work again. Four more. 

Louise Malcom, 22.  
Brian Angelo, 23.  
Melissa StJohn, 25.  
Angela Hart, 21.

He closed the last file with a sigh. This had been the easy part, so to speak. Tomorrow he had to make the calls to the relatives. He SO didn't look forward to this. Add to that the fact that he still felt guilty and like some sort of monster, and he felt sick again. He shut down his computer, changed his clothes in the dresser room and walked to his car. On the way he felt watched by dozens of eyes and when he finally arrived at the Sheriff's house, he was close to hyperventilating again. 

The door opened before he could even raise a hand to knock. The Sheriff smiled at him warmly. “Come in, son,” he said softly, and the gentleness of those words and that voice was enough to make him want to cry again because he didn't deserve them. Slowly, he stepped through the door, noticing the cane his Master still leaned on. “I should,” he began with a look at said cane and swallowed, “I should be taking care of you this time, Master.” 

He didn't notice the surprised look the Sheriff shot him, didn't realize that ever since this whole thing had started, right now had been the first time ever he had called the Sheriff Master. But right now he was too busy not to bawl his eyes out like a baby. But when a hand pulled him close to the Sheriff's strong body, he knew that he was fighting a loosing battle. He threw his arms around the waist of his Master, pressed his face against his shoulder and when he heard the clutter of the cane next to him he couldn't care less for it, because at the same moment he felt both arms of his Sheriff close around his body, holding him tight. That was the moment he lost it. He barely heard the softly murmured nonsense the older man mumbled into his ears. He was lost in his head, saw himself again, saw all those faces, heard their cries, the dead eyes, his own skin burning, their smiling faces which turned in his head to agonized screams. 23. 23. The number run through his head, through his mind, in an endless circle. 

23 23 23 23

He didn't know how long he clung to the Sheriff, didn't know what he said, screamed, mumbled. But when he finally came to again, he was sitting on the floor, more or less in the Sheriff's lap who was propped up against a wall. 

“Feeling better, sweetheart?” his Sheriff asked gently, and Jordan could see the way he tried to protect his stomach wound. 

“Christ,” he gasped and tried to move away but he was held tight. 

“Where do you want to go?” 

“I'm hurting you,” he mumbled helpless, still trying to wrangle free. “No, you don't,” came the reply, “now stay still and let me hold you a little more.”

With a sigh he gave up his struggles and sank back against his Master's body. One hand was around his waist, the other came up, pressing his head slowly back until it rested again on his shoulder. With another deep sigh, Jordan relaxed completely. 

~*~

He could feel the guilt coming off his Deputy in waves and knew that he had to do something about it. He decided on a little, no, a *lot* of pampering, beginning with a warm shower. Then he would pat him dry before he would make him kneel before him and fuck his mouth gently with his cock until the wheels in his sub's head would finally stop turning and he would drop into subspace. Then, after he'd come down his sub's throat, he would pull him up into bed with him and cuddle him for all he was worth. And tomorrow morning he would wake him with a nice little fuck before he would spank him heartily and sent him off to work again. Yes, that sounded good. So after enjoying the close proximity for a few minutes more, he gave Jordan a gentle nudge with the nose. 

“I'm in the mood for a shower. Wanna join me?”

“I don't know,” Jordan mumbled sounding sleepy, and John had to smile. 

“But I do,” he said with a little more conviction and without any preamble, he pushed the young man from his lap, watching him sprawl all over the floor, scrambling hastily to get up. He was on his legs in seconds and John knew that it would take him longer to get up. And not just because of his still healing wound. Unbidden thoughts came to his mind again. Thoughts of 'Why me?'. Of 'what can I offer a man like him?'. Of 'How long will this last and when will he leave me for someone younger?'.

Of 'What does he even see in me?'. 

He was pulled out of his thoughts when a hand touched his face and he looked up in two grey-green eyes. “Master,” the young man murmured, and a mighty shiver ran over John's back again at the word, “Master”, I would very much like to take that promised shower now with you.” 

John's smile deepened, and he took the hand his Deputy offered him and let himself be pulled up. They kiss-walked up to the bathroom where they undressed each other slowly, the Deputy making a big fuss of the wound. When John had him finally under the showerspray, he reached for his soap and began to wash the young man lovingly. It had been a hard, gruesome time those last few days. Hell, those last weeks. And somehow the gentleness between them had fallen a little short. John knew that his Deputy expected a strong hand and he could totally give him that. Had given it to him on more than one occasion, leaving his sub floating on an edorphin-induced high that never failed to make himself smile. But he, John, also needed these moments. These tender moments where his hands would glide over smooth skin with the intent to cause pleasure and not pain, no matter how welcomed the pain often was. 

He closed his eyes when he felt Jordan's mouth on his shoulder, nibbling gently, and could feel his blood slowly head south. He let his head drop against the wall, enjyoing the strong hands on his body, ths soft mouth and the occasional teeth and for a moment he simply forgot that the plan had been for him to take care of his sub and not vice versa. Just when he felt a hand on his cock, he opened his eyes again and stopped him with a hand around his wrist. 

“Wait,” he murmured, “it's my turn now.” He reciprocated all the tender gestures, took his sweet time with his sub and pampered him the best he could under the shower. And with every stroke over wet skin, with every broken moan coming from Jordan's lips, his cock grew harder. Finally, he murmured against the young man's mouth, “Let's move this, sweetheart.”

Jordan moved back a bit and John could see his wide-blown pupils. Aaah, not quite there yet but on his best way into subspace. A few minutes later they were in the bedroom, with Jordan kneeling on a pillow between his feet. John stroked him like a giant cat, drove his fingers through his hair, until he touched the young man's lower lip softly with his thumb. 

“Open up, sweetheart,” he mumbled, and growled in approval when Jordan obeyed instantly. “That's it, boy. So good for me, right?”

Jordan nodded eagerly and closed his lips around John's thumb, sucking him inside his hot mouth. John groaned and could feel himself grow even harder. He pulled his thumb with a 'plop' out of his boy's mouth and looked him deep in the eye. Then he motioned for Jordan to skid a little closer to the bed and as soon as he was within the right distance, he pushed his cock gently in his boy's mouth. 

Without hesitation, Jordan began to suck and lick, making John moan hoarsely. “That's it, baby,” he whispered and grabbed the younger man's head, “suck me, baby, take me in deep.”

Jordan put his hands on John's thighs, intent on pulling the older man closer, but John gripped them and put them behind the young man's back. “Ah, ah,” he tutted, “hands behind your back. I want you to concentrate solely on the feel of my cock in your mouth as I push it deeper and deeper. I want you to feel just me as I fill you completely until you can hardly breath anymore.”

Jordan's eyes watered as John slowly pushed deeper inside his throat. He kept his cock there for a few seconds and just as slowly pulled back out. “Concentrate on my voice, baby,” he murmured and wiped a tear away, “just listen to me.”

Pushing in again, enjoying the closeness, the big, trusting eyes, the look in those eyes that quickly became distant as he dropped into his subspace. John kept his cock in for a few moments more this time, until he could feel his boy begin to struggle slightly, then he pulled out again. They went on like that for almost half an hour until he could feel his body rush to completion. 

“One more time, baby boy,” he murmured huskily, “open up wide and let me in just one more time.”

Jordan obeyed instantly, leaned even closer and took John in as deep as he could and when he swallowed, John came with a deep groan and shot his load almost directly into Jordan's stomach. 

Panting, John rested his hands on the younger man's shoulders, while Jordan still kept his hands obediently behind his back. It took John a few moment to get his bearings together again, especially because his wound was starting to bother him again. He took a few deep breaths and startled slightly when strong hands suddenly cupped his face. 

“Lay down, Master,” Jordan said quietly, “I'll go and get your medicine and you lay down, okay?”

John nodded, feeling completely drained. It had been a hard day, and all the emotional stuff in the end made him feel week and exhausted. But he forced himself to stay awake until his boy would be back. Jordan came into the bedroom a few minutes later, carrying a glass of water and the happy-pills, Melissa had given him to take before he went to bed. 

With a smile, he took the pill with the water, swallowed it down and gave the glass back to his boy. Then he patted the bed beside him. “Hop up, boy,” he ordered, and Jordan obeyed only too happily. John pulled his sub close and let the drug pull him under. 

~*~

Jordan woke up, covered by his Sheriff, and felt a hard cock nudge at his ass. Smiling, he turned around and watched his sleeping dom. Yesterday had been horrible. But the night had been amazing. His dom had held him and comforted him and later on had put him down into subspace so he could find a good night's sleep and wake up refreshed and well rested. 

Now he wanted to return the favor. Wanted his Sheriff and Dom and lover to feel as good as he was feeling now. Slowly, so as not to wake the older man, he got up and when John moved slightly in his sleep, he gently pushed his pillow into the older man's arms and smiled when he grabbed it, pulled it close and went back to his peaceful sleep. 

Jordan slipped out of the room and closed the door quietly behind him before he walked down to the kitchen to make breakfast. Scrambled eggs, bacon, some slices of toast, coffee, orange juice, butter and jam. He put everything on a tray and went back to the bedroom. 

Carefully, he opened the door with one elbow and pushed it open. John seemed to be still asleep so he put the tray down next to the bed and leaned over John to kiss him good-morning. With a smile, John suddenly reached for him and pulled him down on top of him. 

“Morning, sweetheart,” John mumbled against his mouth, “missed you when I woke up. Where have you been?”

“I made breakfast, Master,” he murmured back with a smile, unknowingly using the Dom-title again, “and I brought it with me.”

“Breakfast in bed?” John smiled, “what did I do to deserve that?”

“You were there for me last night when I needed you,” Jordan replied earnestly. Then he gave him another quick kiss, and crawled off of his Sheriff again, reaching for the tray. “And therefore,” he continued, “I made you breakfast in bed.”

John's gaze slid over the tray and he frowned. “Why is there one of everything?”

Jordan knelt down on the bed next to him. “This is for you, Master,” he said, then he reached for the coffee, and held it out to him. “Now you need to eat and drink. We have to be at the station at noon.”

John took the fork, loaded it with some scrambled egg and held it out to Jordan. “Open up, sweetheart,” he said, and Jordan could feel a shiver run down his spine when he remembered the same words from last night. He obeyed on instinct and opened his mouth. With a smile, John fed him the scrambled eggs, before he took the next fork for himself. They shared the food between them like that. One fork for John, one for Jordan and before they knew it, the tray between them was empty. Jordan put it down on the floor and John pulled him back on the bed. 

“So,” he drawled, “it's just half past ten … meaning we still have more than an hour to kill. Got any ideas?”

Jordan grinned and kissed John deeply. “I have an idea or two, Master,” he said and before John could answer, he wormed his way under the covers and slid down until he was eye-level with the Sheriff's cock. It was still soft but Jordan could see that it began to fill with each beat of the older man's heart. He took it in his mouth and sucked gently on it. A quiet moan floated to his ears from above and he smiled. It took him only a few minutes and the cock in his mouth was hard and heavy and hot, the precome sweet on his tongue an involuntarily he groaned. This … this was what he wanted, what he longed for. To be in this kind of relationship. With a dom who respected him, who reigned him in and disciplined him when necessary and, most of all, who cared for him. 

His longing overwhelmed him, and he stopped the sucking, move upwards until he was face to face with John, and reached over to the nightstand, fishing out the lube and coated the other man's cock generously with lube. “Jordan, boy, sweetheart,” John stammered when he realized what Jordan had in mind, “wait. Not …. you're not ready, you're ….”

Jordan kissed him and simultaneously sank down, taking him in deep. “Oh Goood,” he groaned, “I'm so ready, John, you have no idea.” 

He bottomed out and dropped his head to his chest. 

~*~

John felt lightheaded when he felt Jordan sink down on his cock. It seemed to be too tight, too little – because zero – preparation, too much of everything. He tried to keep still, tried to let the young man call all the shots. To let him dictate the rhythm and the speed in which Jordan wanted to do this. 

He wasn't too sure but he was afraid that he might pull some of his stitches if he moved too fast. Or at all. 

After a few minutes, the feeling of toomuchtoohottootight vanished and Jordan began to move, his hands on John's chest. Slowly at first, then faster and faster and when John felt warm spurts of come on his chest, stars exploded before his inner eyes and in the same moment he shot deeply into his boy's body. 

Gasping, he pulled Jordan close, right now not caring whether or not he pulled something. He was still floating high on endorphins, his heart hammering in his chest and the warmth of his lover on top of him. Right now he was in heaven. And he wanted to enjoy it a little while longer. Very, very slowly, he felt Jordan slide off of him. Soft kisses rained down on his shoulder, his chest and after a few more moments, Jordan slid off the bed and went to the bathroom to get a warm washcloth then cleaned them both. Afterwards he sat next to him on the bed, caressing his chest and shoulder absentmindedly. 

“We should go soon,” he murmured after a while, drawing circles with his fingertips down John's stomach. 

John had his eyes closed and enjoyed the afterglow. Then he opened his eyes. “You okay, son?”

~*~

Oh, he was more than okay. He was satisfied, happy, felt a soft glow in his chest and deep inner contentment. 

“Yes, Master,” he replied after a few moments, “I'm more than okay. And,” he continuned before John could even open his mouth, “I'm all the way back.”

He leaned forward and kissed John gently. “Thank you for last night, Sheriff. It was exactly what I needed.”

He could see the relief in the older man's eyes, could see the way his shoulders slumped just that tiny bit down, his muscles relax. 

A heavy slap on his naked butt made him squeal in surprise. “Then off the bed, lazy boy,” the Sheriff said with a smile, “your Sheriff needs another coffee, and then we'll get dressed. We have to be at the station in less than an hour.”

Jordan knew that he had to make all the dreaded calls today. Knew that tonight he would be probably just as drained as last night. But after last night's events he knew that whatever happened, whenever he needed to be grounded, his Master would be there for him. 

With a smile he hastened down to the kitchen to make the promised coffee. 

The end

**Author's Note:**

> Some of you might have noticed that I have the tendency to name my stories after songs. So .... why should it be different this time, huh? ;)
> 
> So .... the title to this story came to me while browsing David Bowie lyrics and I stimble across this one which was just perfect!
> 
> "Fill Your Heart"
> 
> Fill your heart with love today  
> Don't play the game of time  
> Things that happened in the past  
> Only happened in your Mind  
> Only in your Mind-Forget your Mind  
> And you'll be free-yea'  
> The writing's on the wall  
> Free-yea'. And you can know it all  
> If you choose. Just remember  
> Lovers never lose  
> 'Cause they are Free of thoughts unpure [sic]  
> And of thoughts unkind  
> Gentleness clears the soul  
> Love cleans the mind  
> And makes it Free.
> 
> Happiness is happening  
> The dragons have been bled  
> Gentleness is everywhere  
> Fear's just in your Head  
> Only in your Head  
> Fear is in your Head  
> Only in your Head  
> So Forget your Head  
> And you'll be free  
> The writing's on the wall  
> Free-yea'. And you can know it all  
> If you choose. Just remember  
> Lovers never lose  
> 'Cause they are free of thoughts unpure  
> And of thoughts unkind  
> Gentleness clears the soul  
> Love cleans the mind  
> And makes it Free!!


End file.
